


she never asked me once about the wrong i did

by PANTAL00NS



Series: heaven and shell were words to me [2]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Graphic depictions of choking/suffocation, Hanahaki Disease, Pearlina Week, Unrequited Love, marina-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 13:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PANTAL00NS/pseuds/PANTAL00NS
Summary: Marina is not a worry-whale, she is just concerned for her best friend, and there is nothing wrong with being concerned for your best friend





	she never asked me once about the wrong i did

**Author's Note:**

> I confess. I was originally going to finish this for next month. However, when I noticed that Day 4 of Pearlina Week had the prompt of Alternate Universe, well. I couldn't resist! I may have rushed it yesterday to get it done in time for today, but I hope everyone likes it all the same!
> 
> Please note, this is a _companion_ fic, not a sequel. It focuses on Marina's perspective of what was going on in the first fic.
> 
> [Title Song!](https://youtu.be/FYqK2AkBaWk)

It starts with a cough. A light cough that Pearl breathes into her shirt rather than her hand. Marina’s attention is immediately taken, of course. Given the amount of times Pearl insists on screaming her voice out at the end of their gigs, well, it’s no wonder that she’s concerned. Really, while the effect was great and it managed to get the crowd hyped out of their minds, each “ _Booyah!_ ” was stressful on the inkling’s vocal cords. So Marina is _fairly_ certain that’s why the dry cough is bothering her friend right now, if only because Pearl has been showing no other symptoms.  
  
By the time the little episode ends, Marina’s got a glass of filtered water for her, and she presses it to Pearl’s hands with a smile. “Alright, Pearl?” she asks, just to be sure.  
  
Pearl grins back. “You know it. Just choking on air.” And to prove that she’s fine she takes a few gulps of drink to appease Marina’s worrying tendencies.  
  
And that’s that. Except, some days later, Pearl coughs again, a bit harder this time, and Marina’s worries double. Granted, coughing after a recording session isn’t uncommon, but the fact that Pearl’s cough has been lingering is cause enough for concern.  
  
She does manage to snag the little inkling before she can bolt off, pressing her fingers to Pearl’s cheeks and forehead to feel for a fever. But there’s nothing. Pearl’s skin is a regular, healthy temperature. “Your cough has been getting worse, Pearlie. Maybe you should see a doctor?”  
  
Marina almost winces at her own suggestion. Pearl’s expression darkens and it takes the octoling just a split-second to remember that Pearl _hates_ doctor visits with a passion. Not that Marina can hardly blame her, she hates them too (for entirely different, species-related reasons), but still. Her friend is coughing and Marina wants to see her taken care of before it progresses into something worse. Like bronchitis. Goodness, Marina does _not_ want to see Pearl taken by bronchitis.  
  
But Pearl swats her hands away and Marina lets her, mildly bemused by her antics. “Psh. Don’t be such a worry-whale. It’s probably just from blowing my voice out at our last gig.”  
  
A pout answers the whole _worry-whale_ thing (she is _not_ a worry-whale, she is just concerned for her bestie, there is nothing wrong with being concerned for your best friend). All the same, Marina lets it go. “Okay. But… promise me you’ll see someone if it gets worse?”  
  
“Sure thing, Marina.”  
  
Little does Marina know, Pearl has no intentions of going to see a doctor for her ailment.  
  
In fact, Marina almost forgets about it. _Almost_. Because Marina does not like to see Pearl suffer even from a persistent cough and so brews tea with honey and brings the cup to her while Pearl types at a computer, or scribbles lyrics into a notebook, or plays a video game. It’s a small gesture, and Pearl doesn’t even seem to notice, but she drinks it anyway when Marina deftly maneuvers the cup towards the girl’s hand.  
  
It seems, surprisingly enough, to even do the trick. As the days pass by, Pearl’s cough becomes less and less frequent. So Marina makes her less and less tea, until she stops altogether when Pearl goes a day without even a light cough.  
  
_That_ is when Marina forgets about it, because she assumes Pearl has gotten better and that it’s all behind them.  
  
So the weeks go by as usual. They laugh and joke, they perform their gigs, they tease on the news, and at home they play games and have battles over cheap takeout. Life is good. But then, Marina’s life has only been richer since meeting Pearl. It’s hard to imagine anything possibly coming between them.  
  
A Splatfest announcement arrives. They prepare. And then they have their live concert the evening of. No need to rehearse, since it wasn’t as if they started off a Splatfest with anything but Color Pulse. They warm up, Marina checks her equipment, then they go on stage, announce map rotations, and launch right into the song.  
  
Pearl misses a cue, though. Which is stunning because Pearl _never_ misses her cues, and Marina’s turning just in time to watch the inkling fall to the stage, the crowd silencing in horror even as the music continues to play. And Pearl is coughing up… something? Something, but it doesn’t matter, because her face is going pale with the lack of oxygen and Marina is rushing to the girl as fast as she physically can.  
  
Fuck the concert. Fuck everything. Marina skids to Pearl, bangs up her knees as she does it and doesn’t even care. She gets there, grabs her, feeling for a pulse… there! It’s faint, but there. Pearl’s alive, but she can’t _breathe_ and it takes Marina a millisecond for her military training to kick in. It’s not gentle at all, how she flips Pearl onto her back and wrenches her jaw open, and there’s tears in Marina’s eyes when she realizes that Pearl’s throat is blocked by something – the same thing she was coughing up, no doubt.  
  
Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation won’t work with Pearl’s airway blocked. So Marina moves, straddles Pearl’s thighs, places the heel of one hand to the center of her torso, puts her other on top of that, and lets gravity push her upper body down. It takes only three seconds but they feel like a lifetime before she finally, _finally_ hears the most blessed sound of all – coughing.  
  
It isn’t pretty, but it works. Five compressions, and then Pearl hacks up a mix of bile, saliva, ink, and… flowers? Flowers, they have to be. Stem and all. And Marina is too damn relieved to even question the hows or the whys. Pearl’s breathing again, color is returning to her face, and a quick glance around shows that security’s on the move and they’ve already started to close off the square and make room for the EMTs, herding worried civilians away.  
  
Marina doesn’t move until the ambulance actually arrives, too busy watching Pearl and making sure that her condition doesn’t worsen, too busy keeping a hand to her pulse and counting the blessed beats that kiss her fingertips (eighty-seven in one minute, eighty-five the next...) The EMTs hoist her onto a stretcher as Marina gives a quick report to another. After that she doesn’t even bother to talk to the reporters no doubt starting to flock. She takes her mic off, lets tech deal with her equipment, and races for her bike so she can follow Pearl to the hospital.  
  
She curses as her hands shake fumbling the key to the ignition, crying in frustration. Stupid. She’s gotten too damn soft. If she had been a few seconds slower, Pearl could have suffocated to death. All those military commendations, and she almost watched her best friend die.  
  
By the time she arrives her tears have stopped, at least, but her mind’s eye still replays the moment Pearl hit the ground again and again.  
  
\---  
  
It’s a little over an hour later when Marina is finally admitted into the hospital room. The doctor praises her for her fast action on stage and admits, quite seriously, that if she had been even a little slower then Pearl might not have made it. She’s too shaken to speak much, holding her elbows and trembling over thoughts of what might have been. But they show her a chart, and pictures taken of Pearl’s lungs, and she can see the flowers as plain as day in the xray, rooting and growing in her friend’s chest cavity.  
  
Hanahaki disease. Pearl has Hanahaki disease.  
  
Now, Marina has had some experience. Hanahaki can affect all sapient creatures, and not even Octarians are immune. However, in their society it was always immediately treated for the instant it was noticed. If the soldier didn’t voluntarily go, the next physical check up would reveal the disease and surgery would follow. They couldn’t afford to lose any of their soldiers to it, and so it was culturally acceptable to immediately have the flowers removed.  
  
This is not so for inkling society. They’ll pine for a long time, suffer quietly, and then either get the treatment when they can’t bear the pain any more, or rejoice when their affection is finally returned.  
  
Pearl is doing the former. Which is _illogical_ and _stupid_ and makes Marina want to slap her friend. It honestly, truly does. _Nothing_ is worth potentially losing your life, _especially_ not unrequited love.  
  
So when Pearl wakes up, and wakes her up after she falls asleep with her head cradled at the side of her bed, it takes Marina only a moment to remember that she’s furious. Pearl had put herself in unnecessary danger over a stupid decision. Worse, Pearl had _lied_ to her, which just incenses her more. Marina likes to think she’s a level-headed girl, but in the wake of everything (Pearl, laying out on the stage floor, wheezing through petals and ink, her face so _pale_ \--) not even she can deny how frustrated she is.  
  
Worse. Pearl doesn’t seem to _get_ it. She’s too calm as they talk, as if she’s not dying a slow death to a disease, and her words ( _“it’s not like a doctor could do anything for it”_ ) just piss the octoling off that much more. It’s like Pearl has given up, and that is unacceptable.  
  
Marina does stand, after her fury boils enough that her hands start to clench at her sides. She excuses herself before she _does_ give in to the urge to slap Pearl, storming out to the parking lot.  
  
The crisp air helps clear her head, but it also gives her the silence to lean against her bike and take comfort in the feel of its metal form against the back of her legs. More than that, now she can tug out her phone and tab open a search browser.  
  
**> **_Hanahaki disease surgery_ **|  
**   
The few seconds it takes the web to display the results are like agony, but she gets a great deal of information in a short amount of time. General procedure overview (not too much different from Octarian surgical procedure), recovery estimation, potential complications (Pearl’s stunted growth might be a factor in that department), and a list of surgeons and patient ratings. Maybe Pearl hasn’t considered the treatment because she’s too scared to go through with it? Maybe, if Marina shows her that it’s going to be alright, Pearl will do what’s best for her health...  
  
“Yo.”  
  
Oh. Had she been out there that long? But she must have been, because there’s Pearl, looking so much smaller and weaker than she had yesterday, and it makes Marina’s hearts clench to see her friend in such an awful state.  
  
Still, the displeasure from before resurfaces as Marina locks her phone. “I’m still mad at you. When we get home, we’re going to talk about this. Properly. No more lies or secrets, Hime.” Perhaps it’s a bit unfair, using Pearl’s first name, but Marina is serious about this and Pearl needs to have someone _sensible_ sit her down and help her through this.  
  
Marina just will have to assume that role herself, if she must. If it means Pearl gets to live, then it will have been worth it.  
  
And Pearl nods with a simple “alright, Marina” as she jams on the helmet and hops on behind her. The trip home is otherwise made in silence.  
  
\---  
  
If there is anything that Marina is expecting about their confrontation (and oh, she tries to remain open-minded, really she does, Pearl needs her patience, not her anger), hearing that it’s _her_ that Pearl is killing herself over is not it. The revelation comes so suddenly. One moment she’s there, hugging Pearl in the most comforting way she knows how. She tells Pearl she trusted her with every one of her own secrets (not a lie), and promises she’ll help her work this out (also not a lie). So asking Pearl to trust _her_ with this, with telling her who she’s suffering over, is really the smallest thing she could request of Pearl, given the situation.  
  
And then Pearl drops the proverbial bomb. Just a simple admission of “it’s you”, and Marina’s whole worldview shifts.  
  
She doesn’t even notice she’s left until she’s out the door, jamming her helmet on, and tearing out of the driveway.  
  
\---  
  
In the next few days (weeks?), Marina avoids Pearl.  
  
It’s not a conscious decision. Far from it. Marina is far too stuck in her own head to even notice she’s doing it.  
  
But, really, what did you say to the revelation that your best friend is in love with you? It wasn’t as if Marina could flip a switch on herself and force herself to love Pearl back (not _that_ way, at least). Yet the guilt and concern were still there. The guilt was, of course, _completely irrational_. As if Marina had any say in who Pearl did or did not fall in love with. But Pearl is suffering because of the feelings she has about _her_ and so Marina feels guilty because in a way her friend’s pain is her own fault.  
  
Thus, aside from worrying and worrying and keeping a listen for if or when Pearl has another bad coughing fit, Marina isn’t really sure _what_ to do. She _wants_ to tell her to get the surgery, wants to _insist_ on it even, but she knows Pearl isn’t going to take it well. But Pearl _should_ go through with it because that’s the logical thing to do. Marina just doesn’t know how to bring it up.  
  
Instead, she ignores her. Mostly. She still stays around with her headphones settled around her neck rather than over her ears, more often than not, just to listen, but she doesn’t talk to Pearl, and Pearl doesn’t talk to her. It just makes things all the more tense.  
  
They need to talk, though. Not only because the awkward atmosphere is suffocating in its own way, but because their job completely hinges on each other.  
  
And so, Marina talks. Pearl talks. They both talk. Should they cancel the tour? No, there’s medicine, and Off The Hook should go out with a bang. Except… that implies an end to Off The Hook. An end to Pearl.  
  
For a moment, Marina pictures a world without her best friend. A world without Pearl. A world of loneliness, of no longer laughing over bad movies, or playing video games together, or singing together. It scares her, trying to envision it. Maybe because she _can_ visualize it. The manor, empty and lonely with only Marina to walk its halls. No more listening to Pearl hum or rap or growl when lyrics aren’t working. No more crumpled paper and missed throws from across the room.  
  
No more chopstick fights.  
  
Her voice, singing a song without Pearl’s backup.  
  
It would be like… like an incomplete demo. Except that’s her _life_. A part cut away, never to mend.  
  
And that terrifies Marina. It terrifies her more when Pearl tries to reassure her. “Look, Marina. You’ve got more talent in one finger than any other band out there right now. You’ll make a great name for yourself solo. If anything, I’m the one that’s been riding on your success these years.”  
  
And oh, Pearl is trying, but Marina’s hearts give a sudden seize and before she can stop herself her lips are forming the hesitant suggestion, the logical solution. “Or… you can get the surgery.”  
  
Marina’s about to reach for her phone, to bring up all the information she’d so _carefully_ compiled, but Pearl grumbles even before she can manage that much. The answer is a quick, determined “no”.  
  
Of course, it devolves into an argument. They’re both upset, Marina can tell, but Pearl is being _ridiculous_ and she needs to know. She needs to _think_ for a moment, and if Marina has to snap at her to get her to see reason, then so be it. She’ll take being the bad guy for just a short moment if it means Pearl will _listen_.  
  
But Pearl doesn’t listen, and as their verbal spat escalates Marina gets more and more frustrated. Her own words become less thought-out, more biting. Her vision goes blurry with unshed tears. She can barely even recognize her own voice when she snaps out. “How can you be this _selfish_? Isn’t Off The Hook worth living for, Pearl? Aren’t _I_?”  
  
It’s the wrong thing to say. She knows it just as she finishes saying it. She knows she should apologize, but Pearl is rearing up, standing and shaking she’s so angry, and snarls back far more viciously than Marina’s ever seen her.  
  
“ _Fuck you_ , Marina. Just because my feelings are for you doesn’t change the fact that they’re _my_ fucking feelings. Second- secondly, don’t you dare insinuate that I haven’t been giving this any thought, because I fucking have. I’ve been thinking about nothing else for the past five coddamn months. And third-!”  
  
Except Pearl never gets to a point three, her expression changes and her jaw clenches and for a second that moment on stage replays itself in Marina’s mind, of Pearl on the floor choking on ink and petals. She’s on her feet, already moving for her, but Pearl is gone and rushing for the bathroom.  
  
The sounds… aren’t pretty. Each choke is wet and so hard it makes the little inkling’s shoulders shudder from the sheer force of it. Flowers and ink mix alike in the toilet bowl as Pearl kneels over it, hacking and coughing and fighting her body to pull air into her lungs.  
  
Marina is there, though. Quiet, apologetic, but there. She comes to kneel next to her, pushing Pearl’s tentacles out of the way so she can cough unobstructed, her other hand soothingly running up and down her back, patting her sharply a few times when a petal gets caught in her throat.  
  
It’s a bad fit. Not as bad as the stage incident, but bad enough that it leaves Pearl shaking and collapsing, cheek tiredly resting on the porcelain seat, her golden eyes wet with tears as she sobs out inelegantly.  
  
“Please, Marina,” the inkling whispers, and her voice is so fragile and soft that it makes Marina’s own eyes grow wet. “I’m sorry for yelling. You’re my best friend. What if I lose that too? Please don’t ask me to go back to who I was before I met you. _Please_. I don’t want to be that girl again. Please don’t make me go back.”  
  
The plea is so pitiful and heartfelt, but Marina finally _gets_ it.  
  
If Pearl goes through the surgery, what’s to stop her from losing their friendship? What’s to stop her from turning back into the girl she’d once been? And, oh, it _hurts_. It hurts so much just thinking about it. The Pearl of the past had been such an angry, _lonely_ thing, screaming her frustrations to the sky and agonizing quietly to herself without a single real friend in the world.  
  
Marina can’t ask her to go back. She realizes, in the quiet recess of her mind, that she doesn't want to put her best friend through that pain again. It’s selfish of her to request it, or demand it.  
  
So, Marina decides, she won’t. There will be no more talks of treatment or surgery. And it’s a quiet promise she seals with a soft, platonic kiss to Pearl’s sweaty forehead. It’s not much, but it’s the most she can manage for now, beyond holding Pearl in comfort until she feels strong enough to stand again.  
  
\---  
  
_**Anonymous**_ _ > Hello. I realize this probably isn’t the best place for it, but could some of you give me advice? I don’t suffer from Hanahaki, personally, but my best friend is several months along. Is there anything I can do to help them?_  
  
_**HYPERB0MB**_ _ > Yo. Best thing you can do is just be there for them. Might not seem like a lot, but let me tell you there’s nothing better than knowing __they_ _ain’t alone, you know? Does your friend like movies? Games? Just spend time with them like things are normal and good. I’d rather have fun laughing with my bestie than wallowing around in self-pity, dig?_  
  
_**Anonymous**_ _ > Oh. Is that really all?_  
  
_**HYPERB0MB**_ _ > Yup. If they’re not going through with treatment then they know their time’s limited and probably just want things to be normal until they can’t go on. It hurts, I won’t pretend it doesn’t, but just be there for them. It makes a world of difference._  
  
_**Anonymous**_ _ > I see. Thank you for the advice._  
  
_**HYPERB0MB** > No prob. Just make sure to take breaks as you need, yeah? You’re their friend, not their therapist._  
  
_\---_  
  
The advice Marina gets is… not bad. Not what she might have wanted to hear, no (and it hurts that there is no easy solution), but not bad, either. She can understand wanting to be treated like a person, even on death’s door.  
  
Thus, armed with what advice she’s been given, Marina starts to mindfully change her behavior.  
  
It’s small things, at first. Pearl will cough, and Marina will get up and get her some water, or bring her the bin so she can dispose of the petals. Or if the cough is a bad one (and her ear learns to tell which are the bad ones), she brings a dose of an over-the-counter pain medicine for Pearl to down.  
  
If Pearl notices, she doesn’t say. But she does smile to see Marina there every time, even if the girl is only bringing her a glass and a little pill, she smiles with such relief to see her there that between it, and the murmurs of “thank you”, Marina’s hearts flip at the sight.  
  
She’s still afraid, and still worried, but Marina doubts anything will stop those sensations.  
  
But for now… all she can really do is enjoy what time she has left with Pearl.  
  
And that’s what she does.  
  
\---  
  
Life is hard, Marina has found. Sometimes it goes fast, othertimes it’s slow. And then it’ll have its ups, and its downs. But that’s just the way life is. Good, bad, everything. It’s life.  
  
Right now, for example, she’s taking a break for herself. It’s easy enough to walk around Inkopolis and not be recognized. All it takes is pulling her tentacles up, changing up the texture, and viola! She’s a completely different person. It helps, admittedly, that inklings can be so oblivious.  
  
But she’s enjoying some time to herself and not worrying over Pearl, for once. Though, admittedly, she’s only there because Pearl had shooed her out with an exasperated “oh my cod Marina when was the last time you did something for yourself?” and a promise to call (not text!) if she needed anything. There had been much eyerolling and sarcasm, sure, but Pearl had smiled when Marina took off and that was proof enough that the decision had been the right one.  
  
A day to herself isn’t as lonely as some might think. Pearl texts her, every now and then. Eight does as well, though she will never forgive Three for introducing her to those awful meme compilation videos (she’s eighty-eight percent certain that Three did it solely to irritate Marina). Regardless, things aren’t bad. She gets a shwaffle at the Crust Bucket, does a bit of clothing shopping, and even picks up a new movie for herself and another she thinks Pearl will like (it presented itself as a mockumentary about four vampires living together and if that isn’t a movie Pearl will like then she will personally revoke her best friend card).  
  
Then she starts the walk to the parking garage so she can head home just as the sun begins to dip down between the tall buildings of Inkopolis.  
  
There’s a new building, though, as she walks. Rather, it’s an old one, but it’s been undergoing some intense renovations lately. It’s the community center’s building, she recognizes vaguely, before the community center was relocated to a new premises next to a park. Now it reads “Inkopolis Shelter”, with a welcome message on the main door in both the common inkling language as well as fluent Octarian.  
  
Marina honestly never expected to find her native tongue around Inkopolis, beyond the refugee octolings commenting here and there, whispering worriedly as if frightened they’d be recognized and persecuted. It floors her for a moment, reading that message, and she almost doesn’t even see the plaque commemoration that says,“This shelter was made possible by a gift from Hime Houzuki”.  
  
Her hearts squeeze, reading that. Sure, she knows Pearl’s father was the philanthropist type, but she never pictured Pearl doing charity work like this. A shelter in a good location, blatantly welcoming not only inklings, but octolings as well.  
  
She intends to question Pearl about it by the time she gets home, but Marina finds her friend passed out on the couch, game controller on the floor and sleeping quietly while the pause menu theme for her game plays in the background. A check shows no real mess, which is a relief because it means Pearl didn’t have a bad coughing fit while she was gone, so Marina relaxes, fetches her fluffy pink blanket, and tucks it around her.  
  
In the end, she decides that she doesn’t have to question Pearl after all. If anything, she’s quietly grateful to the older girl, for giving the other octolings the help they’ll need to start their new lives on the surface. Pearl really is a sweetheart, Marina notes fondly, for all she tries to act big and tough.  
  
\---  
  
Pearl goes four days straight without coughing once. It’s a record, and a victory that Marina clutches tightly. She doesn’t like seeing her best friend suffer. More than that, Marina wishes with all her might that she could take Pearl’s pain away. Four days without even a small spit of a petal, then, is a victory to be celebrated.  
  
So Marina sits in front of the television in her pajamas, tucks her legs under her, and lets Pearl pass her a controller so they can play the latest in violent video games.  
  
“For eel, Marina, you’re gonna love this one,” Pearl is babbling as the game boots up. “A ragtag group of friends stuck on a lawless planet, hunting for sweet loot along the way while the psychotic wildlife and evil corporation tries to murder you. It’s great!”  
  
It certainly is something Pearl likes, given her fondness for fictional dystopian settings. “But what makes them any better than the people they fight, Pearlie?” Marina asks, if only to humor her. She likes listening to Pearl get passionate about things that interest her.  
  
“Nah, that’s the great part. Like, the friends aren’t entirely good, but they aren’t entirely bad either. You’ll see! I can’t spoil it!” The tiny inkling flaps her hands as the game starts up, far too excited to remain completely still.  
  
Though Marina does frown when she notices the big number 2 in the title screen. This is a sequel. “Um. Pearl. Shouldn’t I start on the first game?”  
  
“Huh? Nah. The first game was pretty generic and the only thing worth playing were the DLCs. This is much better and you don’t need to have played the first one to get the plot of this one. Trust me, Marina!”  
  
And so, after asking Pearl which of the six available characters is the designated DPS class, Marina finds herself playing. She is surprised that Pearl locks what she assures will become the healer-support, but Pearl just cheekily tells her that “the girl is fucking hot don’t fucking judge me you know I’m a gay mess”. After a quick glance through a rifle scope at the character model, Marina finds herself agreeing – the woman Pearl is playing as is rather attractive.  
  
Soon enough, Marina finds herself immersed in this fictional world. Even with the blood, gore, and violence, the plot isn’t actually all that bad and the villain, while occasionally hilarious, does cement himself as a villain and does indeed draw her irritation and dislike rather easily. More than that, as she plays she finds that Pearl is indeed supporting her character more and more with each level up. If she finds herself knocked down and bleeding out, Pearl just has to press one button before Marina’s character is back on their feet and ready to shoot up bad guys.  
  
It’s several hours into the game before Pearl pauses with a stretch. “We should probably break here for the night,” the inkling says.  
  
Marina pouts at her. Not only are they in the middle of a game, but they’re just before a huge climatic battle, if she can judge the writing right. Which she can and she’s eager to help the NPC that’s been guiding them along all the way, having grown immensely attached. “But we’re right there, Pearlie! Please? At least let’s get the key. It’s just one boss fight away.”  
  
And Pearl looks like she wants to say no, so Marina pulls out the big guns and pouts at her. Which works, because her pouts always work, and so Pearl sighs reluctantly and picks up her controller.  
  
“Alright. We get the key, then call it a night. Deal?”  
  
“Deal!”  
  
That said, they keep playing into the night. And when Marina’s favorite NPC is murdered (murdered, because she doesn’t care what justifications that villain gave, that was murder) she is shellbent on finishing the game just so she can put an end to that jerk. Pearl doesn’t even try to insist on stopping again, but she can also see that Pearl feels guilty for not telling her what was going to happen to her favorite NPC.  
  
They play for five more hours before they finally, finally finish the game. It’s satisfying, even if Marina still misses that NPC, but the main villain is dead and gone and definitely not coming back. She can admit the plot was good (not amazing, but good), and the final fight was immensely satisfying.  
  
But she’s so tired by the time the credits roll that she doesn’t even make to go to her room. She falls asleep next to Pearl, Pearl herself already passed out as soon as the final hit registered, grateful that she has given this game a chance. Even if it isn’t her typical kind of game, it had still been fun. Pearl had made it fun.  
  
\---  
  
The tour date comes up faster than anticipated. One day, it seems like they have all the time in the world to prepare. Then, before they know it, it’s time.  
  
Pearl hasn’t been coughing, which is a blessing and Marina is so grateful for it that she wants to cry every time they finish a practice session. But no coughs come, and if Pearl feels any strain on her voice then she takes a quick break. No petals, though, thank goodness for small mercies.  
  
It seems like everything is going to go great. The girls pack up on Marina’s bike, Marina gives Pearl’s hands a squeeze from where they’re holding tight to her, and then they’re off. Riding is always such a joy. Riding with Pearl holding on to her is that much better, and she’s glad she could share this with her best friend.  
  
Sure, Marina drives a little… insanely. She is careful, though! More mindful than usual, given Pearl’s condition. A glance back during a red light shows Pearl grinning happily, just as excited and cheerful as she is for their big day.  
  
Except then Marina notices the car in the oncoming lane is swerving dangerously. Her brain supplies the likely trajectory just milliseconds at work, and she reacts before she can think. She needs to move the bike, if she can spill them then the car will miss. A spill is less dangerous than a head-on collision in this case.  
  
A jerk of the handles and the momentum is pulling them down. Pearl’s arms are still on her waist, and she grabs hold tightly to them to bring the girl with her. If she hits the ground first, Pearl will have all the more cushion on impact.  
  
In the span of the second or so it takes for the car to come screaming by, Marina’s legs hit the pavement and her world erupts into pain. But her thoughts, at least a million and a half of them, are all for Pearl. She doesn’t think of her bike as it gets totaled, or how pieces jam up into her calves and thighs. No, she thinks of Pearl, worried that this accident might make her condition all the worse.  
  
And just before her head can crash into the pavement, she realizes at long last that she has come to love Pearl. A slow, fragile love nursed through days of being at her friend’s side while she suffered with quiet dignity, with seeds planted from years ago during a faithful meeting on Mount Nantai.  
  
She loves Pearl. She loves her playful personality and her bright smile, her kind thoughtfulness and the sound of her laughter. She loves the feel of her hands around her waist, or the tone of her voice when she explains something to her. She loves the way her voice pitches just so when she performs Into The Light. Her best friend, her dearest friend, and she loves her so much she can’t even breathe as the revelation makes her _soar_.  
  
Then she hits the ground, helmet-first, and Marina thinks no more.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider this a "thank you" fic of sorts for the beautiful Pearlina community here on AO3. I have to admit, I was not expecting the reception my first foray into fic writing for these two received. So thank you all! I hope to write more things you all enjoy in the future! ;o;


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